How a creme pie helped me remember...

It all started when I raided my mother-in-law's pantry for snacks to eat on the way back to Louisville after our long weekend in Tennessee. I grabbed a few packs of crackers for the boys, some snack bars and one oatmeal creme pie. There's nothing worse than being hungry on a car ride, so after making sure the snacks were within reach, we started to head up I-65 towards home.

Oatmeal Creme Pie

It didn't take long before the boys started asking for food, so I gave them some crackers and then quietly started to open the oatmeal creme pie ... so as not to alert the cookie monsters in the back seat. It had been awhile since I had eaten an oatmeal creme pie, and I was going to enjoy this one all by myself.

Much to my surprise, instead of sweetness, that first bite of oatmeal cookie brought to my mind a flood of powerful memories. You see, I had forgotten, but when Austin was a baby, those Little Debbie cookies were our favorite NICU snack. It's amazing how food can suddenly trigger memories that have laid dormant for years.

I can't remember the last time I bought oatmeal creme pies, but back in 2006, Joseph and I went through boxes of them. I don't remember who it was, but somebody brought us a box to the hospital right after Austin was born in case we needed something to snack on. They tasted so good to us at the time, we just kept buying them. They were part of the fuel that kept us going those long weeks and months...

I remember...

I remember... how terrifying it was to hold our baby those first few weeks. At 2 1/2 pounds, he was so fragile. We had to hold him just the right way, or we would close up his tiny airway.

I remember... the many hours I spent alone in the "nursing" room at Suburban, pumping nourishment for my tube-fed baby.

I remember... those long weeks of feeding issues when eating wasn't just a means of getting our baby fat... It was the means of getting him home.

I remember... when our baby was first able to wear clothes... at 4 weeks old.

I remember... how we thought he would only be on oxygen for a few weeks... and how he ended up bringing the machine home with him.



I remember... how quickly I got back down to pre-pregancy size since I hadn't gained the last trimester weight yet.

I remember... seeing new babies come and go home... but our baby was still there.

I remember... there was a set of twins about as early as Austin... and one of them died... I didn't know what to say...

I remember... how the nurses called our baby a WIMP- White Infant Male Preemie... The black babies and the little girls usually did better than the white boys.

I remember... Austin had his own special "primary" nurse. Since he was a long-term NICU baby, they assigned him his own nurse instead of changing it up every day. We loved nurse Melody.

I remember... how he was weighed in grams, not in ounces.

I remember... the disappointment when our baby didn't come home at 6 weeks... or 8 weeks... or at Thanksgiving... but the happiness when he finally came after 72 days.. in time for Christmas.

I remember... how I lived in a Ronald McDonald room for the last couple weeks so I could be there for my baby's feedings every 4 hours.

I remember... when he was the noisiest baby in the NICU- Most preemies are quiet because they sleep all the time. Austin was there for such a long time, it got to where he was actually alert for much of the day and needed to be entertained. They brought in a swing for him, and we bought a bouncy chair. The nurses used to rock him a lot after we went home for the night... Maybe that's why he was such a night owl those first few weeks at home.

I remember... how upset I was when they moved him to a big infant crib with metal bars. I thought that meant he was going to be there for a few more weeks... He got to come home within a few days of that.

I remember... when we brought him home... Actually, I don't really remember bringing him home at all. Is that strange? We have a few pictures of him in his carseat the day he left, but I don't really remember much until a few weeks later when my parents came up for Christmas. After spending the first 2 1/2 months of his life in the hospital, those first few weeks at home were hard. God is gracious to allow me to forget a little.

Well, time to end this little trip down memory lane.

For the most part, I don't think about Austin's prematurity much anymore. That season was such a long time ago, and the memories are getting fainter. Every once in awhile, though, something gets me to remembering... like a picture or hearing about a premature baby on Facebook. It's healthy, I think, to reminisce. This time, that something was an oatmeal creme pie.